


I'll have my Coffee with a Side of Drag, Please

by hero_complex_girl



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drag Queen Jaskier, Fanart, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24093604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hero_complex_girl/pseuds/hero_complex_girl
Summary: Geralt turned his head toward the mass of bodies, eyes searching for that familiar, gorgeous face. “He’s here?”“Well duh. I came with him to do his hair and makeup.”“Makeup?”“Yes, his drag makeup.”“His… drag makeup?”“Am I talking to a parrot?” Yennefer huffed, lips curling in amusement. “Yes, his drag makeup. He does these shows nearly every weekend. This isn’t a problem, is it?”Oh no. It’s quite the opposite of a problem, in Geralt’s humble opinion.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 13
Kudos: 111
Collections: Interesting Character and/or Interesting Relationship Development





	I'll have my Coffee with a Side of Drag, Please

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! This is my submission for the 2nd round of the Witcher Mini Bang 2020! The art pieces I claimed to write for are embedded within the story and you can find other amazing art from the artist on their Instagram @sweetinsanityarts! Seriously, she’s got a lot of awesome stuff on there so please do go check it all out! 
> 
> Also, I have never written anything about dressing in drag before, so please do not judge too harshly. My last intention would be to insult a whole community/write it poorly, so if there is a way I could improve on writing about drag in general, please do let me know. In fact, I’d more than appreciate it since I still have a ton of questions about it!

It was a rainy Tuesday morning when Geralt met Jaskier. 

As thunder rumbled overhead, Geralt furiously wiped down a sticky spot on the counter, grumbling to himself all the while about how messy people could be. The old lady sitting at the table nearest the counter sent him an affronted look, causing him to plaster on a fake smile until she harrumphed and turned back to her newspaper. Geralt immediately rolled his eyes and went back to wiping. 

_Old bat._

The chime of the doorbells alerted him to someone entering the building, causing him to glance upward, and that’s when _he_ walked in.

Well, _stumbled_ in was more like it as his foot got caught in the door, but he eventually righted himself, shaking his wet hair like a dog and stepping fully into the warmth of the coffee shop. 

And dripping water _all over_ Geralt’s floor. 

Geralt glared at him--he had _just_ mopped, for christ sake--and folded his arms across his chest. The Glare, which sometimes made grown men cry-- _”You may have a handsome face, but it’s terrible for business, Geralt.”_ \--seemed to have no effect on the baby-faced newcomer. Instead of cowering or running out the door, he sent Geralt a smile brighter than the sun, white teeth twinkling beneath the lighting of the shop. 

“Hello, friend!” the boy said cheerfully, sidling himself up to the counter. Geralt was stunned for a moment by the color of his eyes, the cornflower blues shining fiercely with life. A smattering of freckles ran down his nose and cheeks, so faint that they’d be damn near invisible under the wrong kind of lights. Geralt had the weirdest urge to trace them with his tongue.

He frowned at his own thoughts, grunting his hello to the newcomer. “Have we met before?” he asked.

The man smiled even brighter. “Nope.” He popped the P, making Geralt cringe.

“Then we’re not friends,” Geralt grumbled, setting aside his rag and trading it for a marker. 

“Well, in that case, I’m Jaskier!” Jaskier exclaimed, extending his hand out toward Geralt. 

Geralt ignored it, asking instead, “What can I get for you?”

Unphased by the lack of politeness, Jaskier ordered a caramel macchiato and a blueberry muffin. He then pulled a wet backpack off his shoulder and dug around in it for his wallet, tossing a crumpled 10 dollar bill onto the counter. 

Geralt quickly made the coffee and shoved the warm muffin under Jaskier’s nose, earning himself another blinding smile. 

“Thank you…” Jaskier trailed off, squinting his eyes as they roamed over Geralt’s chest. “How am I supposed to thank you properly if you’re not wearing a nametag? That doesn’t seem like good barista etiquette.” 

Geralt rolled his eyes. “I own the place. I don’t give a damn about etiquette.” Jaskier just stood there and blinked at him, causing Geralt to let out a loud sigh. “Geralt. It’s Geralt.”

Another sunny smile. “Well, _Geralt_. I thank you kindly for the coffee and muffin.” 

With that, Jaskier turned on his heel and walked over to one of the tables, setting all of his stuff down. 

And if Geralt snuck a glance at his skinny-jean clad ass, that was nobody’s business but his. 

~~

“Geralt!”

A tiny smile grew on Geralt’s lips, making him thankful that he was facing the opposite direction of the other man. He wouldn’t want the gesture to go to Jaskier’s head, for God’s sake. 

Geralt quickly shoved the whipped cream cans back into their place before turning around. He grabbed the coffee he had already made for Jaskier and pushed it into his hands, a surprised look crossing his face. 

“Aw, _Geralt_ ,” Jaskier smiled, all doe-eyed and precious. “You remembered my order!” 

Geralt rose an eyebrow in amusement, crossing his arms over his chest. “How could I forget? You’ve been here every day for the past two months.”

“It’s very important to support small businesses, Geralt,” Jaskier quips as he takes a sip. “The only thing that would make this order better is if--”

Geralt handed him a bag with a warm, blueberry muffin inside, effectively shutting him up.

Jaskier made an orgasmic noise at the gesture, causing a blush to immediately heat Geralt’s cheeks. Now _that_ was a sound he didn’t need to hear. Want to hear? Yes, many times in many different positions. But certainly not while he was _working_. 

After paying, Jaskier took the table closest to the counter, chattering away the entire time. Geralt couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he listened to the dramatic ramblings. Though he had originally been annoyed by the younger man's presence, Jaskier had somehow managed to charm and wriggle his way beneath the tight seal of Geralt’s heart. Geralt had never been the type to easily succumb to the smooth words and pretty faces of others, but Jaskier was somehow different. Yes, the younger man had a handsome face and pretty, blue eyes and the roundest ass Geralt had ever laid his eyes on, but Jaskier was also the biggest sweetheart Geralt had ever met.

Geralt rolled his eyes at the thought, wondering when the fuck he had started using words like _sweetheart_ to describe someone. 

_Well, it’s the truth,_ his inner thoughts hissed defensively. 

Which, yes, it was. Over the past few months, Geralt had--rather unwillingly, mind you--learned a lot about one Jaskier Pankratz. 

He learned that Jaskier was actually a college student who was studying music theory. 

He learned that Jaskier was allergic to cats, but was still the proud owner of 2 strays he had found outside.

He learned that Jaskier hated potato salad with a fiery passion, though he would not explain why.

He learned that Jaskier had a roommate-turned-best-friend named Yennefer, who had shown up with Jaskier on multiple occasions. 

Yennefer was… well, she was something else. The stormcloud to Jaskier’s sunny disposition. The first time she had set foot into the coffee shop, Jaskier had dragged her right up to the counter to introduce her. Geralt had mumbled a hello, earning himself a disinterested, violet-eyed once over. Though Yennefer was a head shorter and a good 150 pounds lighter than him, Geralt had never felt so minuscule under someone’s gaze. Truthfully, she was a bit frightening, but watching the two of them interact with each other, Yennefer with an amused look in her eye as Jaskier chattered away, he could see how much she cared about the musician. As Jaskier deserved, of course. Because if one thing stood out the most to Geralt, it was the fact that Jaskier cared deeply about the people in his life. 

He was constantly singing praises about the artwork his friend Triss made, or how brilliant his friend Cirilla was, or how much he supported the book his friend Essie was trying to get published. He was a never-ending stream of positivity, and while it had initially irritated Geralt to no end, he couldn’t help but find it sweet and admirable now. After all, how many people were so incredibly genuine nowadays?

Which, of course, is how Geralt found himself with a small crush on the idiot.

In true Geralt fashion, he’d wanted to vehemently deny the feelings at first. He had never been good with people in general, let alone somehow he had a _crush_ on. However, his typical way of dealing with feelings was to push people away with harsh words and cold looks, but he didn’t have the heart to do that to Jaskier. So instead of forcing the feelings down into the shallow depths of his soul, he allowed them to _just be_ for the first time in his life. Yes, it was scary, uncharted territory but the bright smile on Jaskier’s face whenever Geralt managed to please him in any way was worth it. Now if only he could get rid of the weak-kneed feeling he got whenever Jaskier so much as _breathed_ in his general direction, that would be great. 

Geralt was shaken from his thoughts by Jaskier making another obscene noise, biting into the muffin with all the grace of a starved dog. He then watched as the tip of Jaskier’s pink tongue poked out to swipe the crumbs from his bottom lip. Geralt swallowed hard, averting his gaze as he pretended to wipe a spill on the counter. 

“ _Gods,_ what would I do without you, darling?” Jaskier sighed, sending Geralt a flirty wink. 

_Darling_. 

Jaskier had a habit of using the endearment on Geralt and one day it was going to be the death of him. Hell, the flirting in general was going to be the death of him, but there was no way Geralt was going to put a stop to it. He’d soak it up like the thirsty animal he was. And maybe one day he’d even have the courage to flirt back. 

~~

The weather had been nasty for the past few days, dark clouds giving way to torrential downpours. Surprisingly it hadn’t done much to deter people from coming and buying coffee, but Geralt understood how grumpy people could get when they didn’t have their caffeine. The shop was a bit more crowded than usual, people choosing to sit inside rather than trek soaking wet back to their homes and offices. And like always, Jaskier was sitting in his usual spot nearest to the counter, chewing on his muffin, sipping his coffee, being completely fucking _oblivious_ to the douchebag ogling him from a few tables over. 

And, honestly, Geralt couldn’t blame the guy. After all, Jaskier had had the audacity to march into the shop with a white button-up that was thoroughly soaked, half the buttons undone to reveal a lot of chest hair and 2 _very_ perky nipples. Really, what was he doing with his shirt open like that? Didn’t he know he could catch a damn cold? 

****

_Or catch something else,_ Geralt thought to himself, narrowing his eyes at the jock who was staring at Jaskier’s chest with no shame. 

That did it.

Geralt reached under the counter to grab his favorite hoodie and marched over to Jaskier. The brunette looked up and smiled at him, eyes going wide as Geralt bent down next to him and started unbuttoning the rest of the ridiculous shirt. 

“At least take me out to dinner first,” Jaskier stammered, a rare blush covering his cheeks as he tried to swat Geralt's hands away. 

“Take the damn thing off. You’re shivering.” 

Surprisingly, Jaskier obeyed, shrugging it off his shoulders once Geralt undid the last button. As he lifted the shirt to bring it over his head, Geralt stole one last glance at his chest, feeling a strong urge to reach out and twine his fingers through the thick hair. In an unusual moment of pettiness, he looked over at the jock and sent him a feral grin, causing the man to turn bright red and avert his gaze back to the book in his hands.

_Dickhead._

“Oh, well, I’ll admit that this is a lot more toasty,” Jaskier sighed, snuggling into the sweater. He wasn’t a small man by any means, but he was practically drowning in the material.

Geralt stood up and crossed his arms. “What made you think walking through the rain in a t-shirt was a good idea? A see-through one, no less?”

Jaskier shrugged and sipped his coffee innocently. “I wasn’t.”

“Wasn’t what? Walking?”

“ _Thinking_.”

“Clearly,” Geralt snorted, sending him a rare smile. Before he could turn and walk away, Jaskier reached out and grabbed Geralt’s hand, giving his fingers a small squeeze. “Thanks, Geralt,” he said softly, blue eyes blinking up at him. 

Geralt blinked down at him, trying to remember how to breathe properly. “Of course,” he rasped, squeezing the cold fingers in return. 

The jingling of the door was both a blessing and a curse, Geralt grudgingly releasing Jaskier’s fingers to take his place behind the counter once more. He missed the contact already, but the customer smirking at him immediately took his mind off of it. 

“Renfri,” he greeted, another small smile forming on his lips. “To what do I owe this displeasure?” 

“Oh, stop,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Lovely to see you too, Ger Bear.”

Geralt bit back a groan. She had given him that nickname during their childhood and had never stopped using it, much to his annoyance. 

“I have a reputation to uphold, you know,” he grumbled. 

Renfri let out a loud hoot of laughter, making him cringe. 

“If you want to uphold a good reputation, you should start by getting rid of the resting bitch face.”

Geralt glared at her. “If you’re going straight for the looks, two can play at that game. I mean, who in their right mind wears a fucking _cloak_ in the twenty-first century?” He reached over the counter to pull at one of the red strings of said material. 

She batted his hand away and gave him a grim look. “They’ll come back in style one of these days, Geralt. You’ll see. But for now, I’ll just rock the medieval look.” 

Geralt hated to admit it but she _could_ pull it off. Half the time it looked like she had stepped right through a time portal, but he’d never tell her that. Why let it go to her head? 

Despite his annoyance, he couldn’t help but give her a fond smile. “What do you want, Renfri?”

“I _want_ my best friend to come to a club this Friday night.”

Geralt snorted. “And why the fuck would I do _that_?”

“Because you’re my best friend and therefore are obligated to be my wingman,” she smirked, raising her eyebrows suggestively. 

“You know how much I hate clubs,” Geralt grumbled. And he _did._ There were far too many people reeking of smoke and sweat and questionable body fluids. It was all just a bit much for him. 

“I promise you it’s a nice one, Geralt. In a good part of downtown, as well.”

Geralt sighed, his eyes flicking briefly over to Jaskier who was completely absorbed in his laptop, absentmindedly chewing on the sleeve of Geralt’s sweater. It was so cute that Geralt couldn’t even scold him for it. 

He then brought his gaze back to Renfri. “Who’s going to look after the shop if I’m gone?”

_I won’t be able to see Jaskier_ is what he was really thinking. 

“C’mon, you can close it for one afternoon, Geralt! It’s not going to hurt you,” Renfri pouted. “Why don’t you ask Lambert to work here?”

“ _Gods_ no,” Geralt groaned. He could already picture that disaster. 

Renfri sighed, a serious expression taking over her lovely features. “Look, I’m meeting someone there, ok? She’s gorgeous and funny and sassy. You _know_ how weak sassy women make me.”

Geralt blinked at her, realization dawning on him. “You’re nervous.” 

A deep flush covered Renfri’s cheeks. 

“Hm,” Geralt hummed in thought. “You’ve never been _nervous_ meeting up with someone before. You must really like this woman.” 

“I do,” she replied softly. “Which is why I’d feel a lot better if you came with me. And, hey, maybe you’ll find some hot twink to take home, eh?”

_Not likely,_ his brain supplied, suppressing the urge to look over at Jaskier. 

He just gave her a fond smile. “I guess we’ll find out Friday night.”

~~

Geralt rose an eyebrow as he and Renfri walked up to the red, brick building.

“You didn’t tell me it was drag night,” he murmured, eyeing the pair of drag queens walking past. 

“Is that a problem?” Renfri asked, face unamused. 

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Of course not. I just didn’t think there would be actual _entertainment_ here.”

Renfri had a knack for dragging him into the seediest bars and clubs around town where the only entertainment came in the form of sweaty bodies grinding against each other. This, on the other hand, was perfect for Geralt. Renfri would be able to socialize with her date while Geralt sat at the bar avoiding everyone and watch whatever show the drag queens were putting on. It was a win for both of them. 

As they made their way inside, Geralt felt mildly impressed. Unlike the previous clubs Renfri had taken him to, this one had decent lighting and was actually _clean_ . He saw the edge of a wooden dance floor on the ground but couldn’t make out its exact quality since there were a good number of bodies crammed onto it, all of their attention focused on the stage where a drag queen was performing an off-key rendition of Worth It by Fifth Harmony. Song-worthy voice or not, they looked to be having the time of their life on stage, fiery-orange hair flying in every direction as they danced to the beat. And while Geralt knew fuck-all about make-up, he had to admit the look was impressive. Orange and yellow eyeshadow morphed flawlessly into a light blue at the edges and honestly, how did someone manage to _do_ that? Bright red lipstick brought the look together, complimenting the matching gown they were wearing. 

When they were younger, Renfri had bullied Geralt into being her personal makeup model on multiple occasions. Though her makeup skills had improved over the years, it had never advanced to the level of the drag queen on stage. Geralt couldn't imagine how long it must take for it all to look so flawless. Hell, Geralt wouldn’t even know where to _begin_ with something like that. So while he’d never have it done on his own face, he could still appreciate the time and skill it took to create something so extravagant.

While he had been lost in thought, a new queen had taken their place on stage, making Geralt’s breath catch in his throat. They had on a silky white gown with ruffles going down the middle, the extra fabric pooling on the floor around high-heel adorned feet. The shoulder strap was missing from the right side, accentuating a lightly toned bicep. Chestnut hair spilled down their back in thick, curly waves, making Geralt have the urge to run his fingers through it. Their makeup was slightly toned down from the last queen, sticking with a simple red lipstick and sparkly black eyeshadow. 

****

“Ready for a show, my darlings?” they asked the crowd, white teeth shining behind blood-red lips. The crowd gave an excited yell in response, bodies starting to jump up and down as the music to Hit Me Baby One More Time started playing.

Geralt frowned slightly as his eyes traced the drag queens face. Something about the smile seemed familiar, though Geralt couldn’t explain why. He brushed off the feeling, choosing to focus on the singing instead. Despite singing along to a horrendous pop song, Geralt had to admit the voice was very soothing, hitting high notes that Geralt couldn’t imagine reaching even in his dreams. 

“Geralt, come _on_.” 

A sharp tug on his arm made him tear his gaze away from the stage, much to his disappointment. He followed Renfri up to the bar, a smile growing large on her face as they approached a woman with her back turned to them. Renfri gently put a hand on her shoulder, causing the woman to turn toward them. 

Geralt blinked in surprise as her judgemental gaze fell upon him. “Yennefer?”

“Geralt,” she purred, eyes flickering to Renfri. She grinned as she wrapped an arm around the shorter woman’s waist. “Renfri! I’m glad you could make it.”

“Wait, you two know each other?” she questioned, leaning into Yennefer's embrace. 

“Yes,” Geralt replied. “She’s Jaskier’s friend. She comes into the coffee shop every once in a while.” 

“Jaskier? You’ve never mentioned a _Jaskier_ ,” Renfri teased. “Who’s this mystery guy that you’ve failed to tell me about, Ger Bear?” 

Geralt rolled his eyes, ignoring the nickname. “He comes into my coffee shop every day. I think he single-handedly keeps my business open.” 

Yennefer snorted. “Honey, it sure as hell isn’t the _coffee_ that keeps him coming back.”

Renfri burst into laughter at that, making Geralt blush. 

“You two like each other so much that it’s painful to watch,” Yennefer added, sending him a smirk. “I’m not sure why you don't do anything about it.”

Geralt gave a small shake of his head, lost for words. “I... we don’t… he’d _never_ \--”

“--oh, he _would_ ,” she interrupted. “I’m rather tired of listening to all the ballads he’s made about you. You two need to stop dancing around each other and go on a date. Or at _least_ fuck.” 

Geralt didn’t know what to say to that, his mind reeling. Yes, he had a crush on Jaskier, but did Jaskier really like him back? Yennefer was his best friend so she’d be the most likely to know, but what if she was just messing with him? What if he asked Jaskier out and it all blew up in his face? What if he stopped coming to the coffee shop? What if Geralt never saw him again? What if--

“I’m going to go get us a couple of drinks,” Refri spoke up, smiling up at Yennefer and receiving an adoring look in return. The two of them watched as she disappeared in the crowd.

Geralt looked at Yennefer once again, catching her violet-eyed gaze. “Do you mean that? He… _likes_ me?”

“Men,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. She then tilted her head toward the dance floor where people were now dancing with each other to club music, the drag entertainment over for the time being. “If you don’t believe me, you can go over there and ask him yourself.”

Geralt turned his head toward the mass of bodies, eyes searching for that familiar, gorgeous face. “He’s here?”

“Well duh. I came with him to do his hair and makeup.” 

“Makeup?”

“Yes, his drag makeup.”

“His… _drag makeup_?”

“Am I talking to a parrot?” Yennefer huffed, lips curling in amusement. “Yes, his drag makeup. He does these shows nearly every weekend. This isn’t a _problem_ , is it?”

“No! No, it’s not,” he replied quickly, craning his neck around once more to try and spot Jaskier in the crowd. 

“Right _there_ ,” Yennefer said, pointing to the edge of the dancefloor. 

Geralt turned his gaze in that direction, only for his eyes to land on the brunette who had belted out the Brittany Spears song earlier. He blinked hard as he stared at him, suddenly understanding why he had seemed so familiar. That was clearly Jaskier beneath all the makeup, eyes still as blue as the sky with a smile that could melt icebergs. Not to mention, all that fucking chest hair sticking out the top of the dress should have been a dead giveaway. Why Geralt didn’t put two and two together was a mystery. Especially since he had had _dreams_ about it ever since he had been up close with it that one day. 

Yennefer was saying something to him but he was already tuned out, his mind focused on walking toward Jaskier instead. He heard the faintest trill of laughter come from the violet-eyed girl but he paid her no mind. As he walked closer to the brunette, he noticed that he was dancing with another guy. Geralt felt a wave of possession overcome him as he spotted the hungry look on the other man's face. Jaskier seemed to be oblivious to it, as usual, throwing his arms in the air as he swayed his hips to the beat of the song. 

The other man had _just_ settled a greedy hand on Jaskier’s hip when Geralt strode up to them, another entity seeming to take over his body as he pushed himself between the two, growling “beat it” to the other man. The other guy gave a squawk of surprise, raising angry eyes to tell Geralt off but cowered under the heavy glare Geralt sent him. 

“Sorry, pal,” the other guy stuttered, turning around and quickly making himself scarce. 

“Geralt?”

Geralt looked at Jaskier, amused by the shocked expression on his face. The surprise quickly gave way to one of his sunny smiles. 

“What on earth are you doing here?”

Geralt gave a small shrug, folding his arms across his chest. “My friend Renfri bullied me into coming here. She has a date with Yennefer.”

“Hm,” Jaskier hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side. “Small world.” 

Before Geralt could stop himself, he blurted out, “Had I known you took part in drag shows, I would have come a lot sooner.” 

Honestly, what kind of demon had suddenly taken over his body and mouth? Could the floor just swallow him whole and get it over with? 

Jaskier blinked at him with his long lashes before laughing loud and hard, easing some of Geralt’s nerves. Jaskier then wound both of his arms around Geralt’s neck in a loose hold, leading them into an easy sway from side to side, matching the slower rhythm of the song playing. Taking his lead, Geralt placed his hands on silk-clad hips and went along with it. 

“You’re something else, aren’t you Mr. Rivia?” Jaskier asked, gaze soft and red lips quirked into a gentle smile. 

The two of them danced in silent companionship for a few moments, but it was Geralt who broke the silence for once, the question burning on the tip of his tongue. 

“Why did you never tell me you did this kind of thing? Are you embarrassed?” 

“Embarrassed? No,” Jaskier denied, shaking his head. “It’s just not something one happens to bring up in everyday conversation, Geralt.”

Geralt chuckled at that. “Fair enough.”

The two smiled at each other for a while, gazes turning heavy, hands gripping more solidly. And is that _lust_ in Jaskier’s eyes? Is what Yennefer said the truth? If Geralt kissed him, would the affection be returned or would Jaskier pull a face and leave? As much as Geralt didn’t want to lose Jaskier, staring at those pretty red lips and smelling the flowery scent of his perfume made Geralt _weak_. 

So he closed the distance between them, softly pressing his lips to Jaskiers. 

For one horrible moment, Jaskier froze beneath his grip, body going completely still. But before Geralt could regret his actions and pull away, Jaskier smiled against his lips and pulled him impossibly closer. It was gentle, not escalating any further than the innocence of a first kiss. Not to mention, they were in public. Call Geralt old fashioned but he’d much prefer to shove his tongue down Jaskier’s throat in the privacy of his own home. 

They eventually broke apart for air, Geralt immediately going back for another kiss, but the look on Jaskier’s face stopped him. The musician was biting his bottom lip, blue gaze looking uncharacteristically uncertain. 

“What is it?" Geralt asked, hoping he didn’t overstep some kind of boundary. He’d thought Jaskier had wanted the kiss as much as he had, but what if he’d been wrong? 

“Well, it’s just,” Jaskier started, smiling nervously. “I really like you, Geralt,” he said softly. “You didn’t kiss me just because I’m dressed like this, did you? You know, like a woman?”

Geralt blinked at him for a moment. The drag outfit and makeup had certainly _done_ things to Geralt the moment he had laid eyes on Jaskier, but it had done nothing but enhance what he’d loved about the musician in the first place. 

“Jaskier,” he rumbled, bringing a hand up to caress his jaw. “I’m gay. I’m not attracted to women.” He leaned forward and pressed another lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away. “I just… seeing you like this _does_ things to me.” 

“I can tell,” Jaskier giggled, referring to the obvious boner pressing up against his thigh. “Does this mean you’ll come to more of my shows?”

Fuck, Geralt would close his coffee shop _every_ day if it meant he could come watch Jaskier like this. 

“Yes,” he replied, voice hoarse. “And if, you know… you wanted to maybe dress like this outside of the shows, that would be fine too. Er, _more_ than fine.”

Jaskier laughed at that, curling his fingers into Geralt’s jacket. “I think that can be arranged,” he purred. “I have plenty of dresses that I haven’t worn yet. And wigs. Gods, Geralt, all the _wigs_. Maybe I’ll dress up tomorrow before I come to get coffee and--”

“ _No,_ ” Geralt growled, interrupting him. “That may expose my more indecent side.” 

“Ah,” pouted Jaskier. “I suppose we wouldn’t want you to lose any business. But, if you’re free tomorrow _night_ \--”

“Yes!”

“--then I _might_ just ask for your address so I can come over and--”

Geralt immediately pulled out his phone, finding Jaskier’s number and sending him the address. 

“Done,” he smirked, winding his arms back around Jaskier’s waist, loving the feel of him between his arms. 

Jaskier smiled up at him, an almost shy look on his face. “It’s a date, then?”

Geralt’s response was another kiss to the lips, pulling away as he whispered, “It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like Jaskier would be a huge Brittany Spears fan if he lived in the current time and you can’t convince me otherwise.
> 
> Once again, go check out the amazing artist @sweetinsanityarts on Instagram! 
> 
> Come yell at me on Tumblr: https://hero-complex-girl.tumblr.com/


End file.
